Emerald Eyes
by RedDahlias
Summary: Maria and her father are 'employed' by wealthy aristocrat, Don Carriedo. Under his rule though, they'd everything taken away from them. With a sudden change of heart, Don Carriedo would like to give back what he has taken, on one condition though. That he had his son, Antonio, wed.
1. Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

Maria winced when she heard the loud sound of a wooden crate box being slammed on the kitchen floor. She turned from the plates she was washing in the sink and looked at her father.

"Are you alright Papa?" she asked, drying her hands and helping him drag the heavy crate to the center of the kitchen.

He nodded and wiped the sweat of his brow with the dirty handkerchief he had possessed for so many years. She gathered an armful of the contents in the box, tomatoes, and tossed them in a washing basin to cleanse them.

"I hate what they do to you Papa." She said quietly, staring at the rippling water in the basin.

"I don't like it either, but what're you going to do with all this muscle?" he said, gesturing to himself and chuckling a bit.

She smiled softly; her father was no longer what he used to be, well-built and sturdy. He was now old and limp, the hairs on his head and mustache no longer the dark chocolate brown they used to be, they were now a mousy gray. His middle gave away, giving him a protruding belly and his eyes showed creases around them even when he wasn't smiling. He was still quite the hardworking man though, doing what his old age would allow him to do.

"Papa… has Don Carriedo said anything about our house yet?" she asked hesitantly.

She looked over her shoulder from the basin and gave him an apprehensive look. Don Carriedo was the 'landlord' of their pueblo. He majored in agriculture, mainly tomatoes though. Because of his wealthy and powerful status, he was able to persuade the habitants to work for him, promising them good pay and a plenty of food on the table every day. The latter of the two was already there, because the people of the pueblo were so good at farming. It was no wonder Don Carriedo targeted them as his lackeys.

"I don't know mija, it's still under his possession. He hasn't said anything about it."

She exhaled a shaky, frustrated breath. She turned back to the tomatoes and smacked the still water. She cursed inaudibly and ran a hand through her hair.

"Why does he keep what isn't his?"

"You know, it's been thirty years since he took possession of the house. Maybe it's time I ask him about it."

He stroked his grey chin stubble and smacked his lips. He always did that when he concentrated, making him look even older than he already was.

"I think you should. Otherwise, I will." Maria scolded gently, breaking him out of his trance.

"That wouldn't surprise me. You do take after your Mama after all."

Maria seemed to glow with a bit of self-satisfaction when he made his remark. She always did adore her mother. Her mother, Silvia, was younger than her husband by about a decade. But, that was common, and they were in love. She was a plump, curvy woman who could compete with any of the male farmers in the pueblo. Whereas Maria's father allowed leeway and seldom scolded her, her mother was fiery and firm. If Maria ate pan dulce before dinner, Silvia would be there with a wooden spoon, chasing after her and shouting mild profanities. Maria knew she loved her though and she wanted to live up to her mother's legacy. Maria was about to say something back, but she then heard the familiar accented voice of old Don Carriedo.

"ROGELIO!"

Her father smiled ever so softly and excused himself from his daughter's presence. Maria blew a stray hair out of her face and pivoted back to her tomatoes. She scrubbed vigorously, cursing her father's boss. Hours passed and her father came back into the kitchen, only to find her sitting on a crate, her soft hands raw from the non-ceasing scrubbing.

"Mija… he said he'd give us the house back."

She looked up at him in disbelief before turning away with a cold look on her face.

"Don Carriedo's always been one to play cruel jokes."

He nodded, but he took out a rolled up sheet of paper from his pant pocket.

"I have the deed right here! He said he'd let me keep it to me on one condition."

She looked up at her father suspiciously.

"And what might that be?"

"You have to marry his son."


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

The calm, sullen words that came from her father made her laugh.

"You're joking." She stated, flashing him a soft smile.

He shook his head and exhaled a shaky breath.

"No, I'm not. He wants you to marry his son, for some odd reason." Her father really looked perplexed.

"But, he's rich, what does he want with me? Shouldn't he marry some posh baroness or debutante?"

Rogelio looked at his daughter, somewhat offended that he'd have his genes insulted.

"Any why shouldn't he marry you, you're just as good as any old rich girl. You have something to offer-"

"Besides my body?"

He glared at his daughter for a split second before going back to his little speech.

"You're a hard worker, and you seldom complain. Those are good qualities in a wife. One doesn't necessarily marry for looks, though you are very pretty. I guess that's just a bonus."

She ran a hand through her hair and sighed.

"I don't want to marry the rich, prim bastard though. I don't know him."

Her father sighed as well, glancing at his distressed daughter.

"I know, but speaking of prim bastards, you need to act more ladylike. I know you've never really needed to, but you're nearly nineteen now. It's time you've started acting like what you are. A lady. Especially when you're marrying some fancy, sophisticated young man. You want to make a good impression, no?"

She nodded, thinking about his rational little speech. She looked up and smiled sweetly, mockingly.

"I can't promise anything Papa, but I'll try."

"Good, because you have to meet him tomorrow."

Her obsidian eyes widened, and she looked at her father, mouth agape.

"I can't see him tomorrow, I have to help Tomas and Miguel in the fields."

"Enough of that, remember what I said? From now on, you are to dress and act like a proper woman, or so help me Maria, you'll regret acting like this!" he stated firmly, gesturing to her dirt stained overalls.

She pursed her lips and looked down, suddenly interested in her thick, mud laced boots.

"Alright Papa."

"Good, now go to Leticia's. She'll let you borrow a dress."

Maria excused herself from the kitchen and sauntered over to her neighbor's house. She had her hands in her pockets and her hair was now tucked firmly under a newspaper boy's cap. She knocked lazily on the door and stepped back, waiting for the jittery, middle-aged woman to answer.

"Leticia?" she drawled out, already tired of waiting.

She kicked the door gently and whined out her name again, her hands in her pockets the entire time. Finally, a thick waisted woman answered the door. Her embroidered work shirt was messy and smeared with tomato juice and olive oil.

"What is it Maria?" she asked, her voice laced with fatigue.

"My dad sent me here to borrow a dress; you are the best seamstress in the pueblo."

Maria grinned and rocked back and forth on the balls of her feet.

"Oh, haha. You're such an ass kisser." Leticia said mockingly, pinching Maria's firm cheek.

Leticia ushered Maria in and closed the door excitedly behind them. She couldn't suppress her grin and emotions any longer; she was going to fit Maria into a dress! She hadn't worn one since her baptism, and that was saying something.

"Hm… let's see here. The color of your eyes… the hue of your cheeks. I got it!"

Leticia rushed into her sewing room and extracted a poppy red gown with a mustard seed trim. Once Maria was stripped down to nothing but her unflattering undergarments and dressed again, she found out that the dress reached just below her knees. It really was a pretty dress, she had to admit it. It was collared with short sleeves and the breast pockets were both fashionable and practical. She couldn't help but focus how pretty she felt, with the dresses' small waist fitting her almost perfectly, only to flare out with what Leticia called a 'circle skirt'.

"It's beautiful." She breathed out, her lips curled up in a smile.

Leticia clasped her hands together in complete joy.

"Oh, won't your father be pleased, not to mention you future husband."

Maria's smile faltered at the mention of Antonio. She turned to the beaming woman and sighed.

"I don't want to get married though… I- I don't want to marry him."

"Nonsense, I'm sure in due time, you'll both love each other."

Maria nodded halfheartedly and slipped out of the dress and into her messy burly outfit. Reality had struck her hard. She was going to wear the lovely dress for the sole purpose of pleasing a man she didn't want anything to do with. Grabbed the butcher wrapped parcel that held her dress safe and sound, she made her way back home.

Her father was content with her selection, and presented her with a pair of heeled Mary-Janes he had bought from the market.

"Thank you… Dad, is there anything to gain out of marrying him?"

Her father pondered the question for a few minutes.

"You're marrying a powerful man… and we could get our house back."

"What's it like?" She asked suddenly.

"What's what like?"

"Our house."

"Oh," he clasped a hand on her shoulder gently, "It was amazing. Your mother invested most of her free time in gardening, and it was just so tidy. Everything was. Living with your mother… it was heaven itself."

He choked on his own words and exhaled a shaky breath, trying to calm himself down.

"Go to sleep. Don Carriedo wants you to meet him tomorrow at noon. Over some fancy meal he calls 'brunch'."

She obeyed and retired into her own room to sleep, troubling thoughts on what the rest of her life would be like if she did go through with marrying Antonio Fernandez Carriedo.

"Hmm," She repeated the name, half asleep, "What a mouthful."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

_Author's Note: Alright, this story takes place in the forties. So, the dress I described in the last chapter isn't some fancy, slutty gown. It's a casual cotton dress. And as for Antonio's personality, he does possess both 'conquistador' and 'present day' Toni. His father represents the conquistador side more though… all the characters represent something. I'm not going to say any more though, it's all a surprise. _

"Maria! Wake up, it's almost nine."

Said girl opened her eyes groggily, trying to comprehend what was happening. Her tired state only allowed her to do so much. She slowly sat up and tried to rub the sleep out of her eyes. She yawned and walked into her bathroom, engaging in the usual morning routine. Once cleansed and fresh, she slipped into her usual overalls and boots, she didn't even bother to do her hair. Meeting her fiancé completely slipped her mind, that is, until Leticia stepped into her room. Anger contorted the plump woman's pleasant features, and she couldn't do anything but stare at the tomboyish figure before her.

"What… what are you wearing? Where's your dress?" she asked in a dangerously calm tone.

Maria knew that tone, her mother had used it on her many times before. Her eyes widened; she suddenly remembered she had to meet Don Carriedo and his son in less than three hours. Judging from what she heard from her father, Don Carriedo was a very meticulous man. She ushered Leticia out of the room without a word. She pulled the dress out of her closet and slipped it on, only to curiously lift up the skirt in front of the mirror. She eyed her thighs and wondered why a dress would make a better impression. As pretty as she felt wearing the luxurious garment, she still questioned why. She let the skirt flounce back down. She grabbed her Mary Janes and sat down on the floor, her legs spread apart and her tongue sticking out in complete concentration as she tried to buckle the tiny straps into place. Leticia stormed back into the room, her mouth already open to scold her for kicking her out of the room. Her lips immediately pursed at the sight of Maria looking so childish in such womanly attire.

"Stand up."

The girl obliged.

"Stoop down."

Again, the girl obliged.

"Now you can buckle them."

Thrice the charm.

Leticia commented on the sudden change of character and pushed her into her bathroom to do her hair. After what seemed to be hours of trying to come up with the elaborate style of the era, Leticia finally settled for naturally loose and unruly curls and a black headband. A bit of rouge here and a bit of lipstick there, and perfect! Maria finally looked like debutante material.

"Leticia, is all this necessary?" Maria huffed, poking at a blushing cheek.

"Of course- we got to get you out of here! It's almost noon!"

The jittery woman seemed more distressed than the future bride herself.

"Papa, get the car started!" Maria shouted, grabbing her trench coat and rushing out the door.

She hollered out a hasty thank you to a glowing Leticia as she hopped into the beat up old pickup truck.

Don Carriedo's home really was a sight to behold. It was hard to believe Maria would eventually be living there. She already felt so out of place.

"Dad… what if he doesn't like me?"

Her father parked just outside the pearly gates and looked at her, a false smile plastered on his face.

"I doubt that, just behave yourself."

He gave her a fatherly kiss on the cheek and motioned for her to go in.

"You're not going in with me?" she asked, abashed.

"As much as I'd love talking to my horrible boss for the next hour or so, I've got to go. Bye Sweetie!"

With that, he drove off, leaving her in a small cloud of dust. She sighed and walked to the front door, already intimidated by the large size and elegance. She pressed the doorbell and waited. A mousy looking maid opened the door and greeted her, already knowing who she was.

"You're just in time. Don Carriedo just got out of his meeting."

She led her through marble corridors, past golden staircases; everything was so elegant and refined, she felt out of place and unworthy of such eloquence. But seeing as though she had to make quite the impression, she destroyed all insecure feelings and worked up the courage to ask the maid what Antonio was like.

"I can't say, I just started working here." She replied sweetly, already looking flustered when she saw the displeased look on Maria's face.

Maria shrugged and muttered a flimsy reply of forgiveness. She was just so anxious in meeting her future husband, the suspense was killing her. At long last, the maid came to a halt and opened a heavy oak door, revealing a pretty, linen covered table, adorned with a vase of powerfully scented roses and lovely china and silverware. She was too busy admiring the setup to notice the tall, smartly dress young man standing in the corner of the room, overlooking the stupendous view that the large glass window provided.

"Mr. Carriedo, Ms. Castillo is here."

The young man turned abruptly, a wide smile curling his lips. Maria was still smiling fondly at the pristine table, her hands clasped behind her. So lovely, yet such naivety encasing her. The maid tapped her shoulder, snapping her out of her trance.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Pleasure to meet you." She extended her hand, expecting a hearty handshake from him.

Instead, he brought her petite hand up his lips and placed a quick, rather unchaste kiss upon it.

"The pleasure's all mine, bonita." He said cheerfully, yet suavely.

She jerked her hand back after he was done kissing it and placed it back behind her with its untouched partner. A faint blush could be detected upon her cheeks, and she just wanted to go home right then and there; surely he was trained to treat all women like this!

"Uh… how are you?" she began, wringing her hands with slight irritation.

"Great, now that you're here."

She turned to look at the maid, as if to give her a 'you've got to be joking' look, but she was nowhere in sight. She left! When did that happen? She turned back to the shameless flatterer, her mind made up to put him in his place.

"Surely you say that to all the girls you meet."

An obvious coldness laced her voice, but he seemed oblivious to that.

"Just the pretty ones."

Oh, he was good. She opened her mouth to say something, but she couldn't come up with anything to retort.

"Well, my father won't be able to make it,"

"The maid said he was!"

"He had something come up at the last minute."

She hung her head and mumbled a litany of curses in Spanish. She didn't want to be alone with him.

"Don't worry, I don't bite." He smiled and led her to the pretty table.

She had failed to notice that it was seated for two people.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Eating brunch with him was the most complex and uncomfortable experience in her life. So many forks, spoons, knives… it was so complicated. She glanced up every now and then to observe him eat. The small, dainty fork for the salad… the heavy knife for the meat. Okay, she could handle this. She was about to take a bite out of her deliciously tempting salad, that is, until he spoke up.

"So, has your father talked to you yet? About… our marriage?"

He was easy to broach the subject, wasn't he?

She took the long awaited bite of her salad and made him wait until she was done chewing and swallowing. She propped her chin on her hands and flashed him a sardonic smile.

"If he didn't, would I be here?"

He pursed his lips and looked down at his plate.

"Well…"

"Exactly."

She smiled a rather sweet smile and continued eating without another word; maybe if she seemed displeasing enough, he'd find someone else to marry.

"So, why exactly did you pick me to marry? I've seen that fair skinned Belgian around the pueblo… Emma, was it? She seems like your type."

She picked at the chicken on her plate now, she was testing him. Just to see how easily he'd snap. Instead, he merely shrugged his shoulder, that reaction certainly discouraged her. And his reply certainly didn't mend her ego either.

"Well, how do you know what my type is like?"

She slowly looked up at him, a small scowl defining her features.

"Don't you rich cats like the porcelain looking girls? I figured she didn't need to have a personality at all to catch your eye."

She mumbled all this, but he was only about three feet away from her. He heard it all. He took a deep breath and exhaled, rather frustrated with her assumptions. He pulled at his tie and took it off, as well as his suit's jacket. He then looked at her meaningfully.

"I dressed like this to impress you; I set up this fruity looking table to please you. Now, it seems as if my work's gone to waste."

He dropped his head and gave the white linen a most sorrowful look. She bit her lip and tried to think of something to say. Honestly! He didn't seem as tough as the men on the fields; she could joke with them and tease and taunt and they'd only tease back with much more gusto. That's why she was so happy when she was able to work in the fields. Sure, the labor was strenuous, but it was the good-hearted co-workers she got to talk to that made it worthwhile.

"Well… I can see that you did, and I appreciate it, but I don't think I'm ready to make such a commitment. You see, I don't want to get married."

His head jerked up, the sorrowful look replaced with one of pure curiosity and alertness.

"Why not? I mean… you'd make a good wife. It'd be a waste for you not to get married. What're you planning on doing with the rest of your life if you don't plan on getting married?"

"I actually wanted to continue working in the fields. Maybe earn some money and go somewhere… like Germany or possibly Italy. They're nice countries. I've seen plenty of pictures in my father's books."

Her voice held such determination, despite being unsure of her future. Vivid landscapes of beautiful greens and reds and blues were painted in her mind. Antonio however, didn't see it that way. He knew quite a bit of people in those two particular countries from his travels, and he knew what they'd do to a girl like her. Seduce and bed her is what they'd do! Especially those Italians, with their suave charm and fancy cooking. Damn Feliciano and Lovino with their adorable bumbling, brotherly acts! As much as he wanted to shout and convince her to change her mind, he had to keep his feelings as discreet as possible.

"I don't think that's such a good idea… they've just finished a war. I think you should stay here, with me- I mean your father."

She pondered the suggestion, and then nodded.

"You're right. My dad needs me anyways. Speaking of my father… I've got to go. I need to help him with some chores."

She stood up and thanked him for the meal. He scrambled out of his chair and grabbed her hand, gently tugging it towards him. He wasn't going to displease his father by letting his fiancé run off without making any progress.

"Wait, maybe I could… escort you home. I'd like to show you around the mansion though. Seeing as though you're going to be living here soon."

He grinned sheepishly. She certainly wanted to see the gorgeous manor, and her claiming to do chores was a lie after all… she could spare a few hours with her fiancé. Especially when it gave her the opportunity to get to know him.

"Okay… I'd like that."

His grin gained some confidence and he led her out the door into the vast elegance that was his home.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Maria stared into the water filled basin bursting with dirty farming equipment. A smile curled her lips as she remembered yesterday's activities with Antonio. He had shown her a good time and his home was breathtakingly beautiful. He had proved to her that he wasn't what she thought of him to be. He was sweet and charming, as well as very considerate of the rash decision their parents had stressed upon her. She was curious as to when and where the wedding would take place; she had so many damn questions!

"Don't worry my father's going to talk to your father about it. We'll keep you informed about the preparations, I promise."

She couldn't help but smile when he reassured her. And now, her expression remained straight and emotionless. Her eyes unblinking and her lips slightly parted, she stared into the basin. Her tasks of scrubbing off the dirt and grime from each agricultural instrument lay forgotten as her mind was swimming with internal turmoil.

She tucked a stray lock of hair underneath her Newsboy cap. She was back to the messy and boyish clothing she was so fond of. Her dress had been returned to Leticia the minute she got home and changed and now, she just wasn't feeling as pretty and confident enough. Well, no matter, it was impractical to wear such outlandish clothing in a shack. She sighed and began wiping that crap off a pair of thick shears. She almost cut herself due to the startling voice that penetrated through the thick stillness.

"Maria?"

She threw the shears into the murky colored water and turned around, not caring about the splash.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I was looking for Maria… have you seen her?"

It was Antonio. Her lips turned into a frown. Did she really look like a boy in these clothes? She placed her hands on her hips and scolded him.

"She's right in front of you, idiot!"

He winced at her verbal abuse and finally smiled. A rather wry smile, mind you.

"What're you doing dressed up like that- you can't possibly… Maria!"

He was smiling like an idiot now, and he just couldn't help it.

"Oh you look so cute, trying to do a man's work. Well, I just came to tell you that your dress fitting is tomorrow. My dad's wasting no time in hurrying up the process."

She nodded and rolled her eyes, somewhat hurt that he coddled her like a small child. Yet, he was oblivious to all of it. He kissed her clean cheek, mainly because the other one was streaked with dirt, and ran off, shouting out a faint good-bye. She sighed, slapping the water in the basin, and began to aggressively clean the tools inside it.

Author's Note: I know this was a shitty, short chapter, but I needed to write this as filling for the rest to come. I don't know if you guys like the story or not, I'd like some feedback. Well, I hope you enjoyed it, there's plenty more drama and characters to come and wreak havoc upon Maria and Antonio's wedding and marriage. Enjoy!


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

"Maria, this is Francis. He's a friend of mine and he's going to be fitting you into your dress."

She smiled nervously and greeted the outlandishly dressed blonde man, and in return she received a kiss on her hand and a playful wink. Antonio rolled his eyes and kissed her on the cheek before leaving to tend to other plans for the wedding.

"Well, mademoiselle, for such a petite waist I'd recommend this dress."

He extracted a creamy white gown from the rack and smiled at her awed expression. She nodded at his suggestion and eagerly took it as he handed it to her. He then told her he'd be back with a few other gowns while she changed.

He left the fitting room and made a beeline for the sewing room, he had already fashioned a few other dresses, as instructed by Antonio.

"She's impressed by anything, don't trouble yourself over it."

Francis pursed his lips at the memory; every woman was entitled to a spectacular wedding day, and by God, he was going to make sure this saccharine young lady got one! He would've burst into the sewing room, had it not been already occupied. The door was shut, but two audible, heavily accented voices were what stopped him from entering. Now, he wasn't the type to eavesdrop, but judging from the hostility that laced both voices, he sought it necessary.

"Well, how's she doing? She's already charmed, I'm sure."

"Well yes, but I don't think it's wise to pressure her into marriage so quickly…"

"Do you not understand? Her father's home is built atop a lavish goldmine! If you marry her, that'd be your property as well! My boy, you go through with marry the swarthy peasant girl, all your wildest dreams will come true! You'd be entitled to at least several fortunes worth of gold!"

"She's not a peasant! If anything she's much more decent than that Chiara girl you were pressuring me into marrying before you found out about Rogelio's fortune…"

The deeper articulated man interrupted the latter of the two.

"Chiara's father was wealthy, unlike this one… Margarita's her name, isn't it?"

Francis sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose, surely this man wasn't that inconsiderate. He pressed his ear to the door and listened again.

"Her name's Maria… Father, why are you so dead set on going after that gold? You already have the deed to the house; why not simply mine it all out?"

"I have the deed, but it's not under my name. I've had that damn piece of paper for thirty years, and I can't mine out the gold- not legally, that is. Look, my boy, just go through with this and make your father happy, she's pretty isn't she? Of course she is, just look forward to the wedding night and leave the rest to me, you can divorce her once everything's finished."

The man sounded obsessive about his son's marriage, it was as if he loathed himself for not coming up with the idea sooner. Francis scrambled away from the door and hid as both men casually walked out. Two generations of Carriedos, father and son. He should've known, no one else has a distinct accent like these two men. He watched as both men nodded to each other and walked into different directions. Francis emerged from his hiding place and walked into the sewing room. He grabbed a few of the gowns he had originally wanted to claim and walked back to the fitting room in a hurried pace.

"Ah, there you are. What took you so long?" Maria teased, smiling at him as she swirled around in her dress in front of the mirror.

He flashed a small smile and hung the dresses on the rack.

"You look lovely dear. Now, would you care to try this one on?"

She looked over at him and changed the subject, her hands gripping the lacy fabric.

"Did you really make this yourself? I've lived next door to a seamstress my whole life and she never made anything as beautiful as this. Don't tell her I said that though, she'd skin me alive!"

She meant every word she said, because she wasn't laughing or smiling. Ah, such beauty encased in naivety. He thrust his head back and laughed heartily.

"Don't worry dear, I won't."

She spent the next three hours trying on dresses with him, and she was in complete and utter bliss. He however, wasn't, he couldn't stop thinking about the conversation he heard between Antonio and his father. They were pulling a fast move like Roderich, trying to marry themselves off for financial sake. He inwardly rolled his eyes. He sought himself bold and asked Maria if she was marrying him for love.

"Well, if I marry him, I'd get my father's house back… it's been thirty years since my father's been able to even step foot in it. I'd like to be the one to make that possible. My father and a few other people have said I'd learn to love him, and I'm already warming up to him. I think they're right. It may take some time… but I think this could work."

Francis listened to her intently as she rambled. Her words were genuine, he was able to tell. It was the unsure, unsteady demeanor she possessed that helped him decipher that. As she finally picked out her preferred wedding gown, he sighed to himself and prayed to God she wouldn't get hurt. No woman should go through such humiliation and trickery. It wasn't right.

"Thank you Francis."

"You're welcome my dear."

Author's Note: Hm, I think Francis is getting rather possessive of Maria, in a fatherly way of course. He's just looking out for her. Well, I hope this chapter answered a shit ton of questions! There's more to come and whatnot, maybe Antonio will finally grow a pair and stand up to his dad. Or maybe it won't be him growing the pair. DUN DUN DUN!


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Everything was all planned; the flowers, the church, the guests were all invited. Maria peeked from her sanctuary- the bride's dressing room- and exhaled a shaky breath. So many people, each one dressed elegantly and sophisticatedly. Even in her wedding gown, she felt out of place. Francis was putting the finishing touches on her wedding gown and when he saw the apprehensive look on her face, he placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"Don't worry; everything's going to be fine."

She smiled shyly and embraced him. He was somewhat surprised by this, mainly because when he did try to charm her, she was either oblivious or impervious to his affections. Either way, he hugged her back.

"Thank you, Francis."

He could've sworn she was crying, but he couldn't tell; she was already pulling away from the embrace and making her way to the altar. Her steps were delicate and dainty, and the fabric of her dress fluttered ever so slightly. The usual ceremony was performed, and throughout it all, Maria looked unsure of herself.

"Do you Antonio; take Maria to be your wife – to live together after God's ordinance – in the holy estate of matrimony? Will you love her, comfort her, honor and keep her, in sickness and in health, for richer, for poorer, for better, for worse, in sadness and in joy, to cherish and continually bestow upon her your heart's deepest devotion, forsaking all others, keep yourself only unto her as long as you both shall live?"

Antonio smiled cheekily and uttered "I do" confidently.

The minister turned to Maria.

"Do you Maria; take Antonio to be your husband – to live together after God's ordinance – in the holy estate of matrimony? Will you love him, comfort him, honor and keep him, in sickness and in health, for richer, for poorer, for better, for worse, in sadness and in joy, to cherish and continually bestow upon him your heart's deepest devotion, forsaking all others, keep yourself only unto him as long as you both shall live?

She didn't seem to be paying attention; he mind was swimming with so many thoughts, how would their marriage turn out, would it be successful and blissful like her parents or would it end terribly like Leticia's- with him running off with some other woman?

"Miss… miss?" the minister queried.

Her head snapped up and she apologized, before emitting a soft "I do."

"You may now kiss the bride."

She stood on her toes to reach his height and puckered her lips softly, closing her eyes; she expected a chaste kiss on the lips, but Antonio grinned and scooped her up in his arms, dipping her and planting a passionate kiss on her lips. To this, the guests cheered and hooted. Maria's father merely smiled though.

The reception went by rather smoothly, Maria was able to sit by and converse with her friends; her father in law objected to inviting over the ranch workers, but she wouldn't take no for an answer. She laughed and joked around, her legs not even crossed underneath the layers of mellifluous fabric, she was at ease. One of the younger ranch workers, a young lad whose name was Juan fetched a frothy mug of beer for her. Who said a bride couldn't drink on her special day? No one except her and Juan knew about it, so she was perfectly content with drinking the golden liquid. That is, until Antonio pranced up to her and her small group, the jealousy he contained hidden very well. Why couldn't she loosen up like that for him?

"What're you drinking sweetheart? The wine my father got us?" he asked innocently.

She took a long drought of from her glass and shook her head.

"Yes, it's delicious." She said, a little too enthusiastic.

He cocked a brow and looked at her suspiciously.

"I drank all mine and my father won't let me get another glass, care to share some?" he whispered into her ear.

The rest of the men in the group excused themselves and went to participate in other group conversations.

Before she could even say yes, he gently took the cup from her hands and took a drought. He grimaced and handed it back to her.

"What is it?" he asked, coughing slightly.

"It's beer." She said simply, taking another swig.

He reported back to his original spot- next to his father- and sat there quietly without interfering with his wife's conversations. She was one tough bride. At least he had the honeymoon to look forward to.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Author's Note: Well, it's been a while since I've updated, and I'm sorry. I've just been busy with school and BLAH BLAH BLAH, I'm not going to bullshit you. Here's the next chapter. It's their wedding night, and you know what that means. Oh yeah. Sex.

Finally, after what seemed to be endless hours of celebrating, everyone left. Maria took no time in ambling up the stairs and heading to his bedroom, well, _their_ bedroom. Antonio had instructed her to sleep in his room from now on; they were married now. She looked around and Antonio was nowhere in sight, much to her content. He was probably still drinking with Gilbert and Francis, probably trying to get it all out of his system before he spent the remainder of his days as a wedded man. She sighed and headed to the bathroom. She looked at the full length mirror and scrunched up her features at the sight of herself. The dress was now wrinkled and her curls were now limp and her face looked tired.

"Well, it's not like I could look crisp forever." She muttered, stripping down to her undergarments.

She drew herself a lukewarm bath and after completely undressing, slowly submerged herself into it. She wiped off the rouge off her face and smiled to herself. It was pure sweet bliss. Finally caving in, she began bathing herself, sighing at the fact that she couldn't stay in her guilty pleasure forever. She stepped out of the tub, wrapped a towel around herself in the process. She walked out the bathroom, clinging onto the towel for dear life. Did she have any clothing of hers in his room? No, she forgot to tell one of the maids to move her stuff into his room. Sighing in frustration, she dug into the first drawer she saw, coming across Antonio's undergarments. She laughed at the sight of them and slammed the drawer shut. She moved onto the one next to it and found some casual shirts. She slipped one on and noticed that it reached almost to her knees. She'd be able to make a decent rescue mission to what was her room and retrieve a pair of her own pajamas. She slid out of Antonio's room and into the dim hallway, stepping onto the wooden floor softly, trying hard not to make a sound. She looked back every now and then; making sure no one was behind her. She should have paid much more attention though, because the next thing she knew, she was crashing against something too soft to be a wall and too firm to be well… something else. She bounced back from the force of the impact.

"Maria… is that my shirt?"

She froze for a mere second before looking up at the inquiring figure before her.

"Y-yes. I forgot to put my clothes in our room, so I improvised."

She tried to slip past him as she spoke, but he grabbed her by the waist and pulled her close to him. He pressed his forehead against hers and discreetly inhaled her fresh scent. She smelled like him, of those expensive oils and soaps he insisted on buying for himself. He loved it, it made him feel dominant, like a man… he wanted her.

"I don't think you need any clothes, at least not for tonight cariño." He cooed softly, rubbing his hands along her subtle curves.

She grabbed his hands and pushed them away, a blush forming on both her cheeks. She was thankful for the dim lighting, otherwise she would never have forgiven herself for being so easily affected by his seductions.

"I think… I think it's best if we just sleep in separate rooms for tonight." She suggested, trying to make a quick getaway.

He grabbed her by the waist again, this time not as gently. His hands were skittish, finally giving in to his animalistic want and longing. His broad hands traveled roughly to her rear, then to her thigh, lingering on each part for a reassuring squeeze. She gasped at his licentious actions, her cheeks heating up from embarrassment and humiliation.

"Stop being so distant. We're married now." He whispered huskily into her ear.

He took no time in grabbing a fistful of her hair and pushing her head so that their lips melded in a one sided passionate kiss. He bit her bottom lip, but she merely whimpered from the sudden jolt of unfamiliar pain. He pulled away in frustration and looked down at her.

"Have you ever done this before?"

She shifted her gaze down to the floor and shook her head; she felt humiliated. His hard gaze softened, but he still commenced in ravishing her. She, so inexperienced, at the hands of this womanizer, she was in for a real treat.

"Please, I don't want to." She said halfheartedly.

She wanted to, like any other woman would, she really did. Her body was heating up and she simply felt delightful, but she couldn't live with herself if she gave in to his advances. They were married now, of course, but that didn't change the fact that she was as stubborn as ever.

"Trust me. You'll like it." He replied, hoisting her up, wrapping her slender legs around his waist.

He kissed her again, his hands and arms supporting her trembling figure. She kissed him back timidly, her own petite hands clenching onto his disheveled dress shirt. He carried her back to their bedroom, victorious. She had given in.

Author's Note: Yeah… sorry if I had anyone get high hopes for the sex part. I mean, I don't want to ruin the story with smut. It's just too vulgar, especially if I don't know who might stumble upon this. Well, I think the next chapter will be a bit better, more plot. I don't like a story that rushes into things too quickly. I hope you guys liked it, please drop a review!


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

She awoke in his arms, and it wasn't until she took a look at his half lidded eyes and that cocky smirk of his that she remembered what happened the night before.

"Good morning." He cooed, nipping at her neck.

She shoved him away, mumbled a "good morning" back and rubbed her inner thigh. She felt sore, but she thought nothing of it, it was natural for an inexperienced woman, wasn't it? She sat up gingerly, grabbing the shirt she wore last night. She put it on and swung her legs over the bed, sitting herself up completely. He lazily rolled over to her and wrapped his arms around her hips, burying his face against the small of her back.

"That was amazing." He commented, rubbing his thumb along the curve of her hip.

Maria rolled her eyes and huffed, only to smile discreetly. Yes, last night really was amazing. But, she'd never admit that to him. She sighed in defeat and placed her hands on his forearms. He took this as a sign and sat up, caressing her side from behind. He placed his chin atop her head and smiled warmly.

"What do you want to do today?" He asked, rubbing her arms lovingly.

"I was thinking we could…" she paused as she tried to suggest something, "we could go for a drive. To the fields."

He furrowed his brow and pursed his lips, something he did when he though. It was going to take some time before she accepted the fact that she no longer was a field worker.

"Alright carino." He said, turning her so he could give her a kiss on the lips before he let her go.

Maria gawked at his car. It was an impractical, yet dashing red color with a detachable roof. It simply screamed 'new!'

"Can… I drive?" she asked, not bothering to take her eyes off the shiny automobile.

He looked somewhat hesitant at first and reluctantly handed her the keys before he panicked. But, anything to make his wife happy, no?

"Wait… do you even know how to drive?!" he called after her as she ran to the passenger's seat.

She strapped herself in and waited for him to do so as well before igniting the engine.

"Don't worry, Papa taught me how to. Well, I learned myself… he just cleaned up my method."

He smiled shakily before she slammed on the breaks, catching him off guard and causing him to clench onto the leather of the seat. She sped off, creating a cloud of dirt and dust. She drove out of the manor, hitching onto the dirt road that led to the fields she loved so dearly.

"Isn't this fun?" she asked aloud, smiling cheekily.

He looked at her profile and though he was frightened for his dear life, he couldn't help but admire her passion and drive. She was so lovely to him. She slammed the breaks, parking the car close to the beginning of what started the fields.

"Promise me you'll never drive like that. Ever." He pleaded, tentatively getting out of the car.

After managing to regain his composure, he asked what she planned on doing.

"I don't really know," She murmured, "I just like being surrounded by all this."

She gestured out into the vast lush foliage and it was then that he noticed that something caught her eye. He tried to pinpoint the direction of her gaze and saw a little house in the distance. It looked untidy, covered by unruly vines and untamed weeds. It did look as if it had been cared for though, and that's what drew his attention. That was the little cottage his father was talking about.

"Antonio."

She broke the silence that had ensued.

"Yes, darling?"

"Can we go there?"

She pointed childishly at the cottage and looked at him with doe like eyes, her lips pursed, determined to get a positive answer.

"No, I'm afraid not. That's… my father's property. He'd be upset if we were to trespass upon it."

She nodded, then looked back at the cottage. She had never set foot in there, but she was determined to now. She had no patience for planning out her little escapade. She wanted to know what was so secretive, what was worth hiding. She turned to him once again, a lovely serene smile gracing her features.

"I understand amor."

That night, she waited until Antonio had fallen asleep. That was the easy part, what made it hard was the fact that he had his arm heavily draped over her waist. She grunted quietly as she pushed the dead weight off her without waking him. She grabbed her overcoat and put it on hastily. Slipping on an old pair of boots, she looked quite comical in her nightgown. She silently walked down the hall, trekked down the stairs, and quietly exited out the front door. She was somewhat baffled that she made it out without anyone catching her. She looked out into the cold night, observing the iron gates that surrounded Carriedo's manor. How to get out, that was the only thing stopping her.

"Miss Carriedo?"

Shit. She turned to the voice chastising her and saw that it was a man in a beige suit. He looked somewhat tired. By the dim moonlight, his pale skin glowed and contrasted with his dirty blonde hair. He removed his spectacles and rubbed his cobalt colored eyes.

"What are you doing out so late?" He asked, stifling a yawn.

"I should be asking you the same thing." She retorted, stepping back from him, trying to casually walk away.

He furrowed his brow at her, he looked somewhat confused.  
"I'm Mr. Carriedo's doctor, Alfred Jones M.D… I actually take care of all the residents here. I was just tending to one of the servants. Common cold, ya' know?"

He fidgeted with the medical bag he had in hand as she bit her lip in thought. Nope, the idea of a doctor never crossed her mind. Well, it wasn't important to her at the moment. She was on a mission, and she wasn't going to let herself get distracted by this blue eyed guero.

"Yeah… well, I've got to get going."

Alfred watched her walk away, and wondered where she was headed at such a time. He looked at his wrist watch and shook his head in disbelief. He couldn't believe that she was out so late, and even more so at himself- he had to make sure she was okay, otherwise, he'd never live it down.

Her legs ached from the long walk, but she wasn't going to let that stop her from getting to her father's- not Mr. Carriedo's, mind you- cottage. After walking on the dirt road, her white nightgown was peppered brown, her boots responsible for stepping too hard. She reached the fields that served as the only border between her and her prize and stopped to admire the wild little cottage on the horizon. She held her breath purposely and clasped her hands to her chest; she was so happy. She shoved various plants and crops out of her way, trying to create a path for her to trek through easily. She increased her pace, going from an excited saunter to an ecstatic sprint. The boots made it awkward for her to run, but she didn't care, she would finally be able to experience what her father had talked about since she was a little girl.

It seemed like an eternity, but she finally made it to the front porch. She stopped, and tentatively treaded onto the first wooden step of the short staircase. It creaked, but she paid no attention to it. She took another step, then another; she was within arms' reach of the front door. Reaching for the doorknob, Maria smiled impishly; she wondered what was inside.

"Don't you dare go through that door! Mr. Carriedo will be furious! No one's allowed to go there." A rushed voice only became more audible; it was advancing towards her.

She whipped her head around and saw the Caucasian doctor from the manor. She sighed, rolled her eyes and without a response, opened the door and blindly stepped into the house. The last thing she heard was the sound of snapping wood and Alfred's hollering.

Author's Note: Well, I hope this chapter had enough action, plot and whatever… I'm so happy I finished it. Well, you guys will find out what happens to Maria in the next chapter. Please drop a review. PLEASE. I NEEEED IT.

HHiefvvn


End file.
